Fulfilling my diving dream goes swimmingly

Jordan Tilkens of HTR Media prepares for his first open-water dive on Lake Michigan, off the Manitowoc shoreline.

I took the plunge. No, it wasn't something as scary as marriage, but I decided to dip into scuba diving.

I've always been transfixed on the world beneath the waves. I was either dunking my head during swim lessons, perusing dive equipment magazines or floating in the pool with a water gun tank on my back, and I couldn't wait until I was 10 years old to get certified.

My 10th birthday passed and many more since, and my dream of sea exploration was fading into the depths. Enough was enough. I decided this was the year to strike No. 1 off the bucket list.

I signed up for classes through Maritime Divers. Owner Mike Hansen would be my instructor. Hansen has been diving since 1987 and became an instructor in 1992. He's been all over the world exploring oceans and lakes, and his adventures have taken him from the warm waters of the tropics to frigid ice dives during harsh Wisconsin winters. Hansen is a diehard diver, and I knew I was in safe hands.

Love at first breath

To my surprise, my first class would be in a pool. Classes normally consist of two classrooms, two confined-water dives (pool) and two open-water dives.

I was partnered with a girl from California, who would have the luck of taking her open-water dives in the relaxing waters of Honduras. I would have to endure the ice-cold waters of Lake Michigan.

Hansen tested our swimming abilities with laps on the first lesson and treading water on the second. Easy stuff. Then we moved onto diving exercises and learned how to get acclimated breathing underwater.

My first breath was amazing and frightening. I resisted the urge to hold my breath - which is the No. 1 rule of scuba diving - but I found it strange being underwater and refraining from holding my breath. After a minute or two, I relaxed and breathing underwater became secondhand.

Some exercises taught us the basics such as controlling our buoyancy and clearing water-logged masks. Then we moved on to how to prevent life-threatening situations like sharing air with our dive partner and how to breathe when equipment malfunctions.

The lessons evolved into practicing the controlled emergency swimming escape - a 30-foot swim while blowing your last breath - an exercise I dreaded since my first day. I struggled slightly and had to try it again. I passed the second time and gained the confidence to tackle the open-water dives.

Wreck yourself

"It's your lucky day," Hansen said as he peered into the cerulean abyss of Lake Michigan during my first open-water dive.

I looked over and saw the colossal shipwreck of the Francis Hinton, which sank in 1909, resting on the clay bottom. My excitement was ready to burst, and I scrambled to put on my gear. I checked my air, my instruments and slipped into my wetsuit. I was ready - my dream was coming alive. I perched myself onto the side of Hansen's boat and flipped into the frigid waves.

The biting cold hit me head on, but my wetsuit kept me warm. Hansen gave me rundown of our dive, and then it was time to go under.

Each foot we sank down, it became darker, colder and the pressure bound stronger. We hit the bottom and began to explore the wreck. We looked over the ship's dilapidated hull and rusty propeller. Then it hit me. My eyes have gazed upon a ship few have seen since it plunged to its watery grave more than a century ago. My 10-year-old self jumped around inside with glee.

After a while, we left the wreck to do more exercises and headed back to shore. The next day, I would become an open-water diver.

Final test

The final dive took me to new depths - literally. My first dive was a mere 19 feet. This dive would be 33 feet: darker, more pressure and much colder. But it was an unexpected menace from the surface that plagued my trip - seasickness. I toughed it out and dropped into the water.

My trip down to the Hinton wreck seemed like a short trip. It wasn't the case this time. I'd look down and see nothing but fading blue. I kept kicking but it seemed like I was going nowhere. Each foot, sunlight blended with darkness, and I lost my ability to distinguish what was bottom and what was surface.

We finally reached the bottom, and Hansen I explored what he called canyons -mammoth mounds of clay and plants. Although the temperature was a few degrees colder than the dive the previous day, this dive was bone-chilling. I shook in my wetsuit, and my teeth chattered on my regulator. The gripping cold became too much to bear. I signaled to Hansen to end the dive, and we began the final exercises.

I passed all with flying colors despite my constant shivering. The final and most dreaded test awaited - the controlled emergency swimming escape. I breathed in one last breath, shoved off the soft bottom and kicked as hard as I could to the surface, while blowing as little air as possible.

Dark turned to light, the water became warmer and the air in my lungs became thinner; the surface was right above my head. I pushed one last time and felt the warm sun upon my face. I was at the surface.

It's done. I'm a scuba diver. My dream has finally come true.

ServingManitowoc|Two Rivers|Wisconsin

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Fulfilling my diving dream goes swimmingly

I took the plunge. No, it wasn't something as scary as marriage, but I decided to dip into scuba diving.

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